


a little light headed (at her altitude)

by elegantstupidity



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Insecurity, Post-Season/Series 02, Sledding, Slice of Life, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantstupidity/pseuds/elegantstupidity
Summary: Max was still figuring out this whole "living in a town that's occasionally overrun by monsters" thing. Honestly, though, that might be easier to wrap her mind around than winter in the Midwest.





	a little light headed (at her altitude)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



Snow had stopped falling over Hawkins, Indiana well before the sun rose, which was a good thing. If it was still coming down, Max would've had to listen to her mom's worries and wait for her ride inside. It was bad enough that she could faintly hear Billy's stereo, a jarring interruption to the muffled hush of the snowy street, all the way out on the curb. If she had to pick between being shut up indoors with the full blast of his bullshit music tastes (not to mention him and Neil, both at home for once and no doubt circling each other like vultures or rabid dogs) and freezing, she'd probably pick freezing.

It didn't seem outside the realm of possibility.

Max shivered. She’d kicked as much snow off the concrete as she could, but she doubted her butt would ever thaw. Even huddled in her new, to her at least, ski jacket and stocking cap, she was frigid. 

Which, she’d heard from basically everyone, with a shrug and an unsympathetic frown to go with the assurance, was about all she could expect from Hawkins in January. 

Still, sitting in the cold as she waited for Mike and his sister to pick her up was infinitely preferable to hanging around inside, just asking to get caught in the middle of the Hargroves. While there hadn’t been any blowups involving Billy or Neil lately, that just meant they were overdue. 

She scuffed the toe of her sneaker into a dirty patch of snow, scowling. And shivering. Couldn't forget the shivering. 

When Hawkins got its first snowfall back in December, Max had thought the gentle drift of fluffy flakes was pretty. Nice even. She’d gone on thinking that right up until she tried to ride her skateboard through it. She'd only made it a few feet when the wheels stuck and catapulted her through the air. At least she’d vaulted straight into a powder covered pile of leaves, but the fact that the guys — even Lucas, the traitor—had fallen all over themselves laughing was all the bruising her ego could take. Now, she couldn’t wait for the stuff to melt and for spring to come. 

Apparently, she was the only one. Because when they’d woken up to a Hawkins blanketed in a fresh layer of snow—not the dirty, icy slush that had taken over the streets in the new year, soaking the hems of her jeans and seeping into the soles of her shoes—it had taken the guys approximately three minutes to flood the walkie-talkie channels. 

(“Guys, look outside!” came Dustin’s voice, far too chipper for 7:30 AM on a Saturday. “Please tell me we’re going on sledding."

“Out on Rounder’s Hill?” That was Will. Even Max, with her six short months of experience in town, knew that was just a ten-minute walk from the Byers house. Straight through Mirkwood, yeah, but still close enough that his mom wouldn't mind. As long as she or Jonathan was around to supervise, of course. 

“Definitely! Meet you there at 10?”

Like that, Max had found herself swept up into the chorus of agreements, even let herself get excited, too. She’d never been sledding before. It sounded like fun.) 

Well, from the warmth of her bed it had, at least.

Now that she’d been sitting outside the past ten minutes, she was starting to have her doubts. Honestly, who thought that spending an entire day trudging around in the slush and cold was a good idea for fun? 

Before she could get up and head back inside, the Wheelers’ station wagon pulled up across the street.

Something long and wooden was strapped to the roof, but Max didn’t give it too much thought as she hurried over, flung open the door, and slid into the back seat and its welcoming warmth. Lucas grinned at her from the other side of the bench. Aware of Nancy’s distracted smile in the rearview, Max didn’t do much more than grin back, a quiet "Hey, stalker," her only greeting.

Mike turned around in the passenger’s seat. Under the rolled edge of his knit hat, his face was lit up in anticipation. “This is gonna be great! You and El have never done this before, and—"

“El’s coming?” Max asked, trying to sound casual in spite of the way dread began unspooling in her chest. 

Since Mike immediately launched into an excited discussion of the delicate negotiations he’d had to engage Hopper in in order to secure her attendance, Max figured he didn’t notice her pause. Lucas didn’t say anything, though the way he was frowning didn’t make her think he was as oblivious. She scrunched her nose at him and he shrugged, like it didn’t matter. 

In a way, it didn’t. El was still in hiding. She and Max hardly had to see one another. It didn’t really matter if they didn’t like each other that much.

( _Well,_ Max thought defensively,  _it's not that I don't_ like  _her. I just don't know her yet. Not that I really can between the lockdown and her really obvious problem with me..._

Which wasn't a disappointment or anything. It was just the way things were.)

Today, that would apparently change. 

As Nancy drove steadily towards their goal, Max tried not to let her nerves show. She stuffed her fists in her pockets, ignored Lucas' less than subtle glances, and told herself that it'd all be fine. This became her mantra. 

_Everything will be fine._

Clamber out of the station wagon. 

_Everything will be fine._  

Wave to Dustin, who'd arrived before everyone else and already gotten in a few runs on his saucer.

_ Everything will be fine. _

Help Nancy with the knots holding what turned out to be a toboggan—a weird name for what amounted to a long-ass sled—to the roof rack.

_ Everything will be fine. _

The knot in her stomach—the one that Max did not in any way want to acknowledge—loosened when she realized no one else had arrived yet. 

Which was so _stupid_. Her friends weren’t going to just drop her. She wasn't just a backup, a fill-in for the girl they really wanted to be friends with. She was in the party.

Except...

She might be a member of the party, but Max was pretty sure a Zoomer was way less important than a Mage. Especially a Mage whose magical powers weren’t confined to a board game.

Max tried to put it out of her mind. 

She almost succeeded. With the wind whipping at her cheeks, no doubt turning them bright red though she’d stopped being able to really feel them just a few runs in, as she rushed down the hill again and again, spurred on by her friends' encouragement, it was hard to think of anything but speed and how to get more of it.

Nancy only left when Mrs. Byers and Will showed up, passing off the chaperone baton to one of the only adults in Hawkins she'd trust with it. She hadn't said that she’d been keeping an eye on them, not even when Mike demanded to know why she was still hanging around like a creep, but it was hard to miss the way she was on constant alert. Every time Max trudged back up the slope, there was Nancy, scanning the trees around them, looking up every time a car drove by, doing a quick headcount of her brother's friends, and then starting all over again. 

If anything, Will’s mom was even more watchful than Nancy. Huddled in her big, tan coat, Mrs. Byers had the look of a woman who'd seen too much in her lifetime. Still, she managed to smile every time her son caught her eye, applauding politely for his feats. When Will wasn't looking, though, she seemed to fade back to wary contemplation. Max thought she looked lonely. 

But not for long. 

Not even five minutes after she and Will had arrived, Chief Hopper pulled in behind the green Pinto. He’d ditched the Hawkins Police truck for something a little less noticeable—a sedan that it didn't seem like he could really fit into comfortably considering the way he grimaced as he heaved himself out—proving it wasn’t just Nancy and Mrs. Byers who were letting the paranoia get to them. Not that Max could blame them. There were nights that she woke up and had to skip across the floor, avoiding every creaky board, to make sure every window and door in the house was locked tight.

Of course, where there was Hopper, there was often—

“El!” Mike shouted, scampering up the hill when he noticed her arrival. Lucas grunted as the toboggan’s weight fell solely into his arms. Max rushed over to help him. If it also gave her a reason to avoid the welcoming knot around Eleven, that was just fine. She was more than happy to trade cautious smiles in greeting—which, hey, that was progress for them—and challenge Will to a race. 

In no time at all, everyone had gotten back to the matter at hand: freezing half to death in the name of fun. It wasn't such a bad trade-off, even Max had to admit. The morning went along pretty smoothly. Except for when they decided to build a jump right in the middle of the hill. That was literally a bumpy ride, but not in a bad way. 

It wasn’t until Max stood on one of the sleds at the top of the hill, idly rocking her weight back and forth like she was on her skateboard as she waited for Lucas and Mike to pick themselves up from where they’d flown off the flying saucer in the middle of the slope, that anyone came up with anything to actually argue about. The biggest blow up so far had been when a sled carrying Eleven, Dustin, and Will plowed through a loose drift, sending up an explosion of snow. Since all three came out the other side only covered in white powder, it wasn't even that big of a deal. Aside from a little bickering over who got to use the sled with the handbrakes next, it had been an easy morning. Even Max and Eleven had entered an unspoken truce, not quite opening the door to friendship, but certainly getting along better than they'd yet managed. 

(That uneasy knot in Max's stomach was so close to falling apart, though she couldn't convince herself to let the strands drop away. If only because she didn't want to be blindsided if this whole ceasefire went up in smoke once the day was over.)

Anyone watching would never have guessed that these kids had all been neck-deep in a government conspiracy just a few months ago.

Which only meant that something had to give.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dustin warned Max out of nowhere. When she whirled on him, digging down with her back foot to lift the nose of the sled in the air and twisting her hips to pivot the whole thing, he flinched, practically reaching out to steady her perfect balance. His curly hair caked with snow. 

“About what?” she challenged, though she really wasn't sure what he meant. There was nothing quite like being told not to do something that made Max want to turn right around and do it. 

A few feet away, Will and El looked mildly interested. At least, they looked up from the supply of snowballs they'd been working on for the past few minutes.

“That!" He gestured at her, more than a little wild. Max batted his hands away, so he just pointed at her feet. " _That_ is not a snowboard! You're gonna break your arm!”

She shrugged. "So you'll sign my cast." 

Dustin's responding noise was some mix of exasperation, indignation, and dread. 

“What?" Max replied, already feeling defensive. "You think I couldn’t make it down a little hill like this?”

It was true that Rounder’s Hill wasn’t particularly steep, but it was pretty long. And the many, many trips up and down the slope had churned the once pristine snow into a minefield of ruts and bumps and icy patches. Still, Max did not appreciate Dustin’s skepticism. She was MADMAX. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. 

“Maybe on, y’know, an actual snowboard,” he said, “you could. But not on Erica’s old Barbie sled!”

“What about my sister’s sled?” Lucas asked, coming up the hill, Mike just a few steps behind. 

“Max thinks she can snowboard on it!"

She didn’t, not really, but she definitely was going to try now. 

“It doesn’t have the feet straps,” Mike hedged, looking a little worried. A few feet away, Eleven's brow furrowed. Since she didn't look pissed, Max elected not to worry about it. 

Instead, she eyed the hill eagerly. “Neither does my skateboard." She could feel that thing inside her, the one that always perked up at the possibility of speed and wind and even crashing, stir to life. 

“She has a point,” said Will, almost muffled behind his layers of scarves.

“No kidding,” she said, still making sure to flash him a quick grin. “I bet I can make it all the way to the bottom without wiping out.”

Dustin thought this over. “What's the wager?” 

“If I don’t make it, I’ll tell you how to beat my high score on Dig Dug.”

Clearly, it was a tempting offer. He'd been hounding her about that score since October.

“And if you do?” Lucas prodded, wanting all the information so he could decide where to come down on the matter. Considering the worried wrinkle in his forehead, Max had a suspicion his mind was already made up.

“Then you all have to let me be a Zoomer during the next campaign."

“It’s not a—“

She didn’t hear the rest of Mike's objection; she’d already pushed off. 

It felt different from her board. There wasn’t the steady hum of wheels across pavement, just the slick slide of plastic on snow. Still, it wasn't so different that Max was all that worried. Control was basically the same, though she had to imagine it would be easier to bank left and right on something that was actually designed to be steered. That little loop of rope at the nose was more for dragging the sled back up the hill than for pointing it in any particular direction.

Who cared, anyway? Max had the surge of wind in her hair and a board beneath her feet. She whooped with joy. This was what she was made for. 

She was halfway down before she really ran into any trouble. Well, she didn't run into it, but it was a close call. 

Almost without her recognizing it, the sled had drifted into the tracks worn in by countless other runs. Countless other runs that'd gone straight for the modest ramp they'd built up in the middle of the hill. 

While Max was pretty sure it would be scary and fun in equal measure to launch herself off the jump and sail through the air, she'd rather win the bet. Not because she really wanted to be whatever the hell a Zoomer was as she tried to kill (fake) monsters, but because she wanted to prove them wrong. So, she leaned hard to the right, and the sled reluctantly veered away. 

As it did, though, the back end spun out, too much of her weight dedicated to getting the hell away from that jump to anchor it properly.

Max could feel her center of balance shifting. Her arms pinwheeled. The soles of her soaked shoes and the floor of the sled were too slick to offer much purchase. Ah, shit. She was about to go down, and after she’d talked such a big game, too.

Bracing herself for the fall and the inevitable teasing she’d have to endure, she tensed, waiting to hit the ground. 

The impact never came. Instead, wind continued to whip her hair back, threatening to take her hat with it, and she whooshed down the hill. From her knees down, her legs were locked in place, like magnets were holding her feet to the sled. If plastic were magnetic, the thought would be more comforting. Nonetheless, it wasn’t hard to regain her balance and enjoy the final moments of the ride before coasting safely to a stop. It was only when there was an explosion of sound from the top of Rounder’s Hill that Max realized she’d made it to the bottom without eating it. Whirling, she stared up at them in total disbelief. 

Dustin was pumping his fist in the air as Lucas jumped, nearly slipping as his boots came back to earth. Mike and Will shouted their approval. Even Mrs. Byers and the Chief offered polite applause when they looked up to check on the commotion. The only still point was El, but that wasn’t why she caught Max’s attention.

Even with the entire hill between them, Max could feel the other girl’s gaze on her. She watched Max with dark, impassive eyes as she brushed a faint trickle of blood away from her nose. 

Thankful, but confused as hell, she offered El a single nod of acknowledgement, more of a quizzical tilt of her chin. The only reply she got back was a blink and a funny head tilt. 

Well,  _that_ happened. Didn't it?

Max shrugged it off and began climbing back up the hill.

They only got in a few more rides. Max, El, and Will were all shivering, and Mrs. Byers was making noises about getting everyone inside somewhere warm for lunch. She allowed them to make one last trip down the hill, so they decided to make it count. The last run, they managed to squeeze everyone onto the toboggan, Max at the front. It was hands down the fastest they’d ever gone.  It felt something like a miracle that they all made it to the bottom still in one piece. 

Then again, judging by the way Eleven’s jacket cuff was darker than melting snow warranted, maybe they had mad science to thank.

As they trudged back up the hill, exhaustion and sodden boots slowing them down, the party was pretty quiet. But when Mrs. Byers called out, "Who wants lunch and hot chocolate?" the clamor started up again. With a burst of energy she hadn't realized was still tucked away, Max scampered after her friends. I no time at all, they had the sleds, even the giant toboggan, stowed away for the short ride to the Byers'. Once that was done, all that was left to pile in the cars and head back.

If Hopper had brought the Hawkins Police truck, part of Max would be tempted to go with him and Mike and El in spite of how weird it might be. It wouldn't be that hard to score the front seat, and she could study the radio array to her heart's content, maybe even find the switch for the siren. Considering the way this whole "move to the middle of nowhere Indiana" thing had turned out, there was no telling when that kind of knowledge might come in handy. She probably wouldn't even have to make conversation; Mike and El were firmly sunk into that strange wavelength of theirs and Hopper hadn't been asking any of his transparently leading questions about Max's home life in a while. 

As it was, she and Lucas filed after Will and his mom, leaving Dustin to go with Hopper.

Joyce's car was already warm when she got in. In the front seat, Will huddled close to the heating vents. Max, even without the memory of some shadow monster possessing her, could sympathize. She wasn't sure she'd ever be warm again. Lucas teased her, calling her a wimp. If her teeth weren't chattering, Max would do more than flip him off. From the front seat, Will laughed. Mrs. Byers didn't say anything, but when Max caught her eye in the rearview, it seemed like she was biting down on a smile. The Pinto's heaters were doing their best, though, turned all the way up for the short ride. By the time they pulled up to the end of the drive, Max had feeling back in her toes and Will had unwound both of his scarves.

They all hurried into the house, even Joyce, tumbling eagerly through the door to get the hot cocoa going as quickly as possible. A stack of sandwiches already waited on the counter. Nancy and Jonathan looked up from the couch in the living room, half-ready to push homework from their laps and jump into action, though their smiles were easy when they realized the commotion was just excitement for once. 

"Spread your wet stuff over the radiators," Joyce instructed once she shed her own coat. "It'll dry out before you have to go home. Will, go get some dry socks for everyone, please."  She ran her fingers over Will's fine hair, smiling fondly when he didn't jerk away. Max figured there was too much actual drama in their lives for teen bullshit to have much appeal. Besides, from anyone else, Mrs. Byers' level of constant anxiety would have been pure paranoia; from her, it was just common sense. 

Lucas studiously didn't watch them as he wriggled out of his jacket, but Max couldn't help herself, even just from the corner of her eye. It wasn't that she was jealous, but— Well. Maybe that was exactly what it was. It didn't feel as awful as jealousy—and Max was no stranger to that particular monster—usually did. It was just sort of... wistful. 

Rather than think too hard about it, she helped Lucas arrange their sopping mittens and socks over the floor vents, leaving enough room for everyone else's stuff, too. Which was a good thing considering the door flew open once more and the rest of the group piled inside. This time, Jonathan didn't startle. Maybe he'd heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Nancy didn't either, but her gaze was sharp, assessing, until everyone was safely in the house, the door locked and bolted behind them. Even then, her shoulders didn't quite settle into a relaxed line for a few minutes. Not that Max was watching.  

She noticed, though. Just like she noticed the way Eleven self-consciously combed her fingers through her damp, tangled hair and Joyce kept pausing in her movements through the kitchen—lingering with her hand in an open cabinet, going still with the carton of milk poised over the suace pan—to cast a glance over everyone else, a worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. The wrinkle smoothed a little when Hopper came in and took over heating the milk for the hot chocolate. At least, once Joyce came back out of the fridge, a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough in her hand, it was less pronounced. 

Will came back with an armful of socks, most of them matching. Max took a pair and tried to stop noticing so many things. 

She let herself follow the others into the living room, sinking into place in the loose circle of kids on the carpeted floor. The plate of sandwiches Hopper had thrust at Mike before shooing them all out of the kitchen was soon a populated only by a few lonely crumbs. Jonathan and Nancy hadn't vacated the couch or their studies in spite of the invasion of eighth graders. They didn't even complain when the TV was turned on, though the noise couldn't help with their studying. 

Then again, the TV was probably the least of their concerns. 

Between the low murmur of adult voices in the kitchen, the loud chewing of peanut butter and jellies, and the loud debate over what the monster in their next campaign should be, Max doubted that there was anywhere in the house they could get much work done, even with the TV off. Max didn't join in on the argument; she was happy to be part of the party, but asking her to memorize all those manuals and shit was a step too far. Instead, she focused on regaining the feeling in her feet and not overthinking things too much.

She mostly succeeded. By the time the timer for the oven went off, she'd managed to actually tune into and start to follow the conversation around her. It was easy to needle at Dustin because he was so easy to work up or help Will come up with new spells. Max didn't even think about the fact that it was awkward to be sitting here with Eleven, the girl whose spot she couldn't fill, not until they were both laughing at some stupid joke Mike had made, sharing a friendly grin across the knot. 

Max was the first to look away, still unsure of where they stood even after the snowboarding thing and unwilling to push her luck.

"Cookies are done," Joyce called from the kitchen. 

The warmth of the Byers' house, snug and toasty as it was, hadn't done so much to Max's frigid limbs that she was about to pass up freshly baked cookies and hot cocoa. In a flash, she was up and leading the charge into the kitchen, where Mrs. Byers and the Chief had assembled an array of mugs and two pans of cookies. The rest of the pack, including Nancy and Jonathan because no one could say no to fresh baked cookies, followed close behind. There was a chorus of "Thank yous!" and even an exuberant, "You are my favorite, Mrs. Byers!" as the boys descended on the trays and mugs, leaving a massacre in their wake. If their haul of sandwiches had been demolished in a blink, this was pure decimation. Max was glad she'd gotten there first, gotten the pick of the lot, though she'd made the mistake of loitering in the kitchen and now didn't have a seat at the dining room table with everyone else. 

Mike tried to get Nancy to vacate her chair, but she was having too much fun riling her brother up to consider it, and Max was under no illusions that his complaints were on her behalf. But if Nancy went back to the living room, Jonathan would probably follow. No such luck. Finally, Mike slumped back, not quite pouting, but clearly disgruntled as he accepted defeat. The kitchen table it was.

A little warily, Max sank into a chair. Directly across from her, Eleven studied the spread with caution.

"What is it?" Eleven asked in her slow, careful way. She leaned in over the pan, inhaling the aroma of warm sugar and butter, but still, she looked suspicious.

Max bit back on her urge to laugh. She hadn't had many chances to hang out with El, but she already knew two things: 1) Eleven was still catching up on things the rest of them had known their entire lives and 2) she didn't appreciate feeling stupid. Being laughed at would definitely accomplish that, even if it was more about the things Hopper must be feeding her to warrant such caution around new foods. 

"They're cookies," Hopper said. "Like Oreos."

"What the shit?" From the dining room, Dustin looked highly offended, not even quailing under Hopper's disapproving frown. "They are not like Oreos! These're like a million times better!"

"Well," Lucas said, drawing the word out.

"Oh, don't start," Dustin groaned. "Warm chocolate chip cookies blow your goddamn Oreos out of the water any day of the week."

El's eyes darted between them, a quizzical smile playing over her mouth. "I like Oreos," she finally said.

Lucas was triumphant as Dustin wilted. Nonetheless, he tipped up his chin, accepting the challenge. "You'll like these better."

Max, personally, agreed, not that she really wanted to have a horse in this race. Mike and Will, even Nancy and Jonathan, had no such reservations. They all registered an opinion, quick and overlapping enough to make Eleven blink.

"Hop's been keeping these from you?" Joyce teased, gentle enough that it didn't make the other girl's hackles rise. Max really needed to learn how to do that. 

"She eats enough garbage as it is," he tried in his own defense, but Eleven was just solemnly shaking her head in reply. If she'd grown up like a normal kid, she'd be pouting, eyes wide and pitiable. This was more convincing.

Mike shot a glare at Hopper's back, like it was unconscionable to keep warm chocolate chip cookies a secret. Since the dark look was gone the minute the Chief turned around, it was pretty clear that his big game wasn't even talk. It was just wishful thinking.

"Garbage?" El asked, eyes darting to the trash can in the corner.

"Junk food. Stuff that's bad for you. Makes you fat," Hopper said, though it didn't seem as though that was something Eleven needed to worry about.

Her brow furrowed as she considered. 

Feeling bold, Max ventured, "They're really good." She bit into her own cookie, smiling a little. A silent,  _See?_

Miracle of miracles, Eleven actually smiled back. Small and tentative, yes, but a real smile nonetheless. Finally, she reached out, picked up a cookie, and took her first bite of warm, doughy chocolate chip cookie.

Eleven’s eyes went wide as she chewed, quiet for once in a way that didn’t make Max edgy as shit. 

“You like them?” Will’s mom asked, looking like she actually wanted to know the answer. When El nodded, her eyes still wide and a dab of warm chocolate stuck at the corner of her mouth, Mrs. Byers smiled. “I’ll send some back home with you and Hop, then."

Hopper rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree.

In no time at all, every last crumb and drop had been consumed. Even with the sugar boost, most of the party was drooping in their seats. Their winter gear had mostly dried. It was time to leave the Byers in peace and head back home. Out into the cold.

No one told them to pick up the pace, though, when it took longer than strictly necessary to gather their coats and hats and lace up their shoes and boots again. It was as if no one really wanted to open the door and let the chill January air inside. 

When it finally happened, it wasn't as bad as Max had built up in her head. Maybe it was because she was bracing herself for an arctic blast, or maybe the hot chocolate and cookies had wrapped her up in a protective layer of cozy heat. Either way, stepping out onto the front porch, fresh snow just beginning to drift from the sky, wasn't the gut punch she'd been expecting.

She tipped her head back, squinting up into the gray clouds as snowflakes landed and melted on her cheeks. She poked her tongue out, wanting to see if it tasted the way Linus and Lucy said. If Billy were here, he'd (at best) probably mock her for even trying it. But Billy was nowhere in sight and all of Max's friends quickly followed suit. Even Eleven gave it a try. 

"Okay, okay," Hopper grumbled, tipping El's head back upright and ushering her into his car. "Let's get out of the cold."

It was a little funny. Not even five minutes ago, Max would've been in complete agreement. Now, she just wondered when they could do this all over again.

Maybe, she considered as she piled into Nancy's backseat with Dustin and Lucas, spring didn't need to be in such a rush after all.


End file.
